The hangup sounded in my ear as I pulled up Mrs. Henderson’s phone number. I was in the middle of dialing when Nina stalked in, slamming the door behind her. “So what did the big lizard have to say today? She needs more money for crickets?”
I hung up the phone and rubbed my temples. “She’s a dragon, not a lizard, and she still hasn’t shown up. That’s not like her.”
Nina whipped out a nail file and gave her perfectly manicured nails the once-over. “Maybe she lit herself on fire. One can only hope. “She snorted, her smile lingering. “I want to go shopping. What do you think? Boutique in the Haight or mainstream on Market?”
I frowned. “I’m kind of worried about Mrs. Henderson.”
“So send her an edible arrangement. Don’t they have one with staked mice or something? Anyway, boutique or mainstream? I need your financial prowess to point me in the right retail direction.”
I pulled out my calendar and flipped back a few pages. “Last week I had two missed appointments.”
Nina pouted. “Are you doubting your popularity at UDA now? You know everyone here adores you and we don’t even consider your ... issue.”
I felt a blush rise to my cheeks.
My “issue” was my breath. Not that it was bad (at least I don’t think it is); it is that I have some. The Underworld Detection Agency not only caters to the demon community—providing transfer papers, tracking paranormal activity in the city, detecting demon activity, and protecting from demonic or human threats—it is also staffed by demons.
Except for me.
Which is why there is currently a bologna and cheese sandwich wedged between two blood bags in the office fridge and why there is a constant CAUTION: WET FLOOR sign in front of the hobgoblin receiving line (hobgoblins are constantly slobbering demons and seem to have better traction than I do).
I rolled my eyes. “I know no one cares about me being human. I’ve been working here forever. It’s the appointments. No cancellations, no phone calls, nothing. I called the last two for follow-ups and couldn’t reach anyone.”
Nina shrugged. “Who cares?”
“Where do you think they’re going? It’s not like there is another company out there protecting demons.”
“Like a demon Walmart undercutting our fees?”
I crossed my arms in front of my chest. “Yes, Nina, I’m really worried that we’re losing business to Walmart.”
“Bring it up with Dixon.”
I gnawed my bottom lip. “I guess I could. We do have an all-staff meeting at four.”
Nina’s coal black eyes went wide. “I had totally forgotten about that.”
“Cuts into your shopping time?”
“No.” She clapped a hand to her forehead and started a rigorous massage. “Do you know how awkward that’s going to be? Me and him in the same room together after what happened!”
I leaned forward. “What happened?”
“Ohmigod, you and I live together, Soph! Have you not paid any attention? Me and Dixon?” she enunciated. “The whole dating thing? It totally didn’t end well.”
“Oh, right. That’s probably because it was all in your head. Nina, he’s our boss. It’s expected that he’d call you. And asking you to collate his copies means just that. The man needs staples.”
Nina narrowed her eyes. “Oh, and I suppose you’re going to tell me that him asking me to boot up his hard drive was completely innocent, too!”
I groaned.
Nina leaned over to gather her coat and enormously gaudy Betsey Johnson bag. “So you never told me. Shopping on Market or Haight?”
“I don’t know. Both. I can’t make a decision.”
Nina raised an eyebrow and grinned salaciously. “Ain’t that the truth?”
I pursed my lips and straightened the already-straight selection of Post-it notes and general office tchotchkes on my desk. “Bite me.”
Nina dumped herself into my office chair again and lolled back. She kicked her Via Spiga booties up on my desk, crossing her ankles. “Hey, I’m not judging. If I had two hot otherworldly creatures ready to duke it out to save my afterlife”—and here she splayed a single pale hand against her chest—“I’d do my damndest to keep them both around, too.”
She swung out the nail file again. “So about that shopping trip ...”
I gathered a few files from my cabinet. “Give me a half hour and I promise to be your couture mule all the way through San Francisco. Deal?”
Nina cocked her head, her long, newly colored sunshine-blond hair swishing to her elbow. “Deal.”
I poked my head into the outer office, where I used to sit (back in the Pete Sampson–werewolf-boss days), and mustered up my most harmless human smile for the vampire sitting at the front desk. He was heavily interested in whatever Cosmo had to say, but I saw his nostril twitch. When I sucked in a breath, he stiffened.
I am pretty well used to living a vampire-filled life, but having coworkers who could smell me at fifty paces is still a little unnerving.
“Hey, Eldridge.”
Eldridge Hale raised his perfectly manicured eyebrows—mine looked like mating caterpillars most often—followed by icy silvery eyes.
“Ms. Lawson.”